


grace coming out of the void

by spinnerofyarns



Category: Silicon Valley (TV)
Genre: AU where Jared and Monica knew each other as kids, Christmas, F/M, Jared gets a real family, holiday fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 09:05:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9228110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spinnerofyarns/pseuds/spinnerofyarns
Summary: It's the season of eyes meeting over the noiseAnd holding fast with sharp realizationIt's the season of cold making warmth a divine interventionYou are safe here you know now---AU where Monica and Jared knew each other as kids, before Jared's mom died and he went into the foster system; they meet again years later at a Palo Alto party and Monica convinces Jared to come spend Christmas with her family.Title and lyrics above from "The Atheist Christmas Carol" by Vienna TengFor the Silicon Valley Holiday Exchange!





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [businessboyjared](https://archiveofourown.org/users/businessboyjared/gifts).



> Hey! If you're reading this and/or if you've ever enjoyed anything I've written, I hope you'll consider participating in the SV fan fundraiser for CAIR and the ACLU. You can donate anytime between now and March 15, and any little bit helps! Go here for more info: https://svagainsttyranny.tumblr.com/

            The day Donald’s mom died started like any other day. He woke up, ate breakfast, and left for school just as she was coming back from her overnight shift, just in time to hug him and kiss him before he left. At school he had his usual classes and spent all of recess under the slide talking to his best – and really only – friend, Monica.

            Monica walked him home from school and gave him a hug goodbye outside his house. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” she said. Donald nodded.

\----

            When Ms. Montanez asked if Donald has anyone he could stay with, the first name that came to mind was Monica’s mother.

            “Um…Jane Hall,” he said. “She and my mom worked together, and I’m friends with her daughter…”

            “Okay,” Ms. Montanez said. “Do you have a contact number for her?”

            Donald nodded. “It…it should be on the list on the fridge.”

            “Okay,” Ms. Montanez said again. “You just sit tight, I’ll give her a call.”

            Donald nodded again.

\----

            Mrs. Hall met him at the door. “Oh, Donald,” she said, in a tone of voice that would soon become familiar to Donald. “Donald, baby, I’m so sorry.” She pulled him into a tight hug, and kept her hand on his shoulder as she led him inside.

            “I’ve made up the bed in the guest room for you,” she said. “Monica’s in her room right now, doing her homework, if you want to talk to her.”

            Donald shook his head. “I think I just want to be alone right now,” he said. “Thank you.”

            “Okay,” Mrs. Hall led him to the guest room and set his bag down. “Dinner’s in about an hour, Monica will probably come by to bring you downstairs.”

            Donald nodded. “Thank you.”

            A few minutes after she left, there was a knock on the door, and Monica pushed it open.

            “Hey,” she said. “I heard about your mom. I’m sorry.”

            Donald sniffled. “Thanks.”

            Monica sat down on the bed next to him. For another minute or so, they sat in awkward silence. Then Donald sniffled again, and Monica pulled him into a hug.

            And for the first time that day, Donald broke down and cried, and Monica held him and patted him on the back and let him cry it out.

            “I’m sorry,” he said when he was done, and she shook her head.

            “Don’t apologize,” she said. “I’m sorry about your mom. Are you okay?”

            “I’ll be okay.”

            “That’s not an answer,” Monica said, squeezing his hand.

\----

            Donald spent about two weeks with the Halls before his aunt and uncle showed up, and later in his life he would remember those two weeks as the best time of his life since his mother’s death. Mrs. Hall let him stay home from school watching all his mom’s favorite old movies, and brought him endless cups of tea and plates of food. Monica spent every night in his room and they talked until they both fell asleep.

            He didn’t want to leave them, absolutely didn’t want to go live with his aunt and uncle, but Mrs. Hall just sighed and said “There’s nothing I can do, Donald. You can call me and Monica whenever you like, okay?”

            Monica just wordlessly hugged him goodbye.

            Donald nodded and smiled and promised to call, but somehow never got the chance.

\----

            Donald – Jared, he reminds himself, he’s _Jared_ now – sinks to the floor, his back against the wall in a corner of yet another Palo Alto holiday party. He takes a few deep, shuddering breaths, willing himself not to cry.

            _Worthless,_ he repeats Gavin Belson’s words in his head. _Useless. Fucking moron. You can’t do anything right._

            He’s so lost in this thought spiral that he doesn’t even notice the young woman until she touches his shoulder.

            “Hey,” she says, and her voice is familiar though he can’t quite place why. “I’m sorry, I overheard Gavin shouting at you. Are you all right?”

            He raises his head to look at her. Her face is familiar too, but again he can’t quite place it.

            “I’ll be fine,” he says.

            “That’s not an answer.” She smiles softly, revealing rather large slightly crooked front teeth, and suddenly something clicks in Jared’s memory.

            “Monica?” he asks softly, looking at her name tag. “Monica Hall?”

            The woman – Monica – raises her eyebrows. “Yeah. I’m sorry, have we – do I know you?”

            “I’m Jared. Donald. Donald Dunn?” Jared’s voice rises at the end, and he cringes inwardly. He really needs to break the habit of making every statement into a question.

            “Oh my god, Donald! Of course! Oh, wow, it’s been _years_ , how have you been?” Monica extends a hand to help him up.

            “Um…okay, mostly. How have you been?” He deflects the question easily, after years of practice.

            “Pretty well. God, your eyes are all red, have you been crying?”

            Jared squeezes his eyes shut and then opens them. “No. Well, a little, but it’s fine.”

            Monica frowns. “Let me get you a drink. What would you like?”

            “Oh, water will be fine, thanks.” He doesn’t drink much anymore, doesn’t have anyone to drink with, and he doesn’t want Monica to have to deal with his pathetic lack of an alcohol tolerance.

            “Are you sure?” Monica says. When Jared nods, she says “Okay. I’ll be right back,” and dashes off.

            True to her word she returns a few moments later with a cup of water. “Drink up, you’ll feel better.”

            Jared accepts the water gratefully. “Thank you,” he says. He’s glad that Monica still cares about him. It’s nice to know that the memories and daydreams he used to comfort himself all those years weren’t entirely false.

            “Now, be honest with me, are you okay?” Monica asks. “The last time I saw you we were eight and you were going to live with your aunt and uncle, what happened after that? I remember hearing something about a fire…”

            Jared clenches his teeth. It’s not something he likes talking about. “After I…left them, I spent the next eight years or so moving between various foster homes, until I aged out. I managed to get into Vassar on a partial scholarship, got a degree in economics, then worked on Nancy Pelosi’s campaign team for a while, went and got an MBA, and now…well, now I’m here. I used to work for Google but Gavin came along and gave me a better offer about a year ago. I didn’t know it would involve…that is to say, I didn’t expect him to treat me like…I shouldn’t say that. Gavin Belson is a good man, and what he said to me was entirely true. Anyway, enough about me, how have you been?”

            Monica shakes her head and frowns. “Not the part I heard. You aren’t worthless, and you were always incredibly smart when we were kids.” She bites her lower lip and takes a sip of her wine. “I’ve had a pretty normal life, I guess – econ degree at Princeton, couple years of shitty finance jobs, then I finally gave up, came out here, got an MBA, and Peter hired me almost immediately, said I showed real promise.” She pauses. “You know, if you wanted to, I’m sure I could convince Peter to hire you away from Gavin. He’s a bit of a weirdo sometimes, but he’s very kind, and he never raises his voice, which is…more than I can say for your boss.” She sighs. “He’s sort of like…the responsible supportive dad I never got to have, I guess. I don’t know. I like him. Plus, stealing Gavin’s…stealing you away from Gavin would bring him no end of joy, I’m sure you’ve noticed the weird thing those two have.” She takes another sip of her wine.

            Jared mulls the idea over. “I…I’ll consider it,” he says. “Thank you so much.”

            Monica smiles. “No problem. Hey, while we’re stuck here, what are your plans for Christmas?”

            Jared shrugs. “I didn’t really have any plans, I was going to catch up on sleep, maybe get some reading done…what about you?”

            “I’m flying home to visit my mom and my brother, and my, ah, boyfriend was supposed to fly with me, but we broke up a few days ago. I caught him cheating on me.” Monica finishes off the wine. “Anyway, I have an extra ticket, if you want to come with me. All we’d have to do is change the name. David and my mom would love to see you.”

            Jared takes a few sips of the water she brought him while he ponders his answer. “I’d love to,” he says finally. “But…how long are you going to be there?”

            “I’m leaving the evening of the 23rd and heading back really early in the morning on the 27th. Not ideal, but those were the cheapest tickets. And I’ll cover the cost of changing the name on the ticket if that’s a problem,” she adds quickly. And then, when she sees him still hesitating, “Oh god, please come, I need a buffer between me and Mom, Christmas is always hellish.”

            Jared smiles. “Okay. I’ve definitely got enough vacation days saved up, I haven’t taken a single day off yet. Thank you so much for inviting me.”

            Monica smiles back. “I’m just glad I’ve found a friendly face here. God, it’s been way too long since I last saw you, and I’m pretty sure I was taller than you then.”

            Jared laughs. “I had a growth spurt shortly before college,” he says. “I haven’t grown an inch since freshman year, though.”

\----

 

            “Is that all you’re bringing?” Monica raises her eyebrows looking at Jared’s tiny suitcase, barely bigger than his laptop bag. “You know we’re going for 5 days, right?”

            Jared nods. “I pack light.”

            “Okay. I hope you have a good coat, it gets really cold out there.”

            Jared smiles and gestures to the peacoat slung over his messenger bag. “I remember. Though I have to admit I don’t miss that part.”

            Monica laughs. “No, neither do I quite honestly. Have you got your boarding pass?”

            Jared nods again, pulling the printout out of the pocket of his bag. “Let’s go,” he says. “I always get randomly selected for patdowns so we’ll need to budget extra time for security.”

            “It’s cause you’re too tall,” Monica says, following him to the security line. “It’s suspicious.”

            When they finally make it through security, Jared sits down in a chair near their gate and pulls his laptop out of his bag. Monica shakes her head.

            “Nope. This is a holiday, you are not going to spend all of it working. Especially not when you’re with me.”

            “But Gavin – “

            “Is probably soaking up the sunlight on a beach in Hawaii somewhere and does not actually care whether you finish your work today or on the flight home. Relax, Donald.” She pauses. “Or is it Jared now? I’m confused.”

            Jared shrugs. “I – Gavin called me Jared on my first day and I didn’t want to correct him, and now the name’s stuck I guess. I don’t know. I like it, actually, it’s a chance to reinvent myself and leave…well, leave my childhood behind. The bad parts, at least. You can keep calling me Donald, though,” he adds quickly when Monica bites her lip.

            “I’ll call you whatever you want to be called,” Monica says. “So, Jared?”

            Jared nods. “I don’t know where Gavin got it from,” he says. “Nobody can explain it, but it’s stuck.” He puts his laptop back in his bag.

            Monica looks at him. “Jared…you know you don’t have to let people treat you like that, you don’t need to let them walk all over you. Gavin sounds like an absolute bastard, you shouldn’t let him treat you like this.”

            Jared sighs and looks away. “Sometimes I have to. It’s safer. If I let people walk all over me I won’t wake up in the hospital with broken ribs and concussions.”

            Monica bites the inside of her cheek to keep from gasping out loud. “God, who did that to you? What happened?”

            Jared shakes his head and pulls a biography of Hillary Clinton out of his bag. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

            Monica doesn’t push him, and thinks instead of the sweet kind smiling boy she knew. The thought of anyone hurting that child makes her heart clench in her chest and she feels a strange urge to protect the man now sitting beside her.

            _He’s an adult, he can protect himself,_ she thinks. _Knock it off. You’re not his mother._

\----

            Jared sleeps for most of the flight, his head tilted to the side and his mouth slightly open. He looks so young and innocent and peaceful when he’s asleep, almost like the boy Monica knew. It’s like all that time – nearly twenty years now – never happened at all, like he’s still Donald, still young and hopeful and innocent.

            He jerks awake when the plane hits the tarmac in Baltimore and blinks sleep out of his eyes.

            “Are we – “ His voice cracks, dry and still heavy with sleep. He tries again. “Have we landed?”

            Monica nods, and hands him the tiny bottle of water she saved for him when the flight attendant came around. “Drink, you must be super dehydrated.”

            Jared accepts the water bottle gratefully, twists it open and drinks half of it in one gulp. He screws the cap back on, puts it down and stands to retrieve his bags from the overhead bin.

            Monica’s brother David is waiting for them in the terminal.

            “Donald! It’s been years!” He claps Jared on the back in greeting, and Monica sees him stiffen.

            “Hi, David,” he says quietly. “I actually go by Jared now, but it’s nice to see you again, how are you doing?”

            “Jared? Ok, no problem. I’m great. I’ve got kids now, if you can believe it, and they’re super excited to see their aunt.” He pulls Monica into a one-armed hug as they walk from the terminal to the parking lot.

            Monica smiles, and reaches to squeeze Jared’s hand in reassurance.

            The drive to their parents’ house is much faster late at night, and after only 20 minutes Monica is climbing out of the car and ringing at the excess of twinkle lights her mother always puts up.

            “I swear to god, our electric bill doubles in December,” she says. Jared, next to her, smiles.

            “I used to love seeing your house all lit up and decorated,” he says. “I still do.”

            His voice is soft and sounds almost choked up, and Monica takes his hand and squeezes it again.

            “Welcome home,” she says softly.

            Monica’s mother opens the door for them and immediately pulls Jared’s lanky delicate frame into a hug.

            “Donald, baby, it’s been too long,” she says as he relaxes against her. “It’s so good to see you. Come in, come in, don’t freeze out there.” She releases him and steps aside to let them in.

            Inside, there are even more twinkle lights, enough to light up the front hall without needing to turn on the overhead lights. Monica takes Jared’s coat and hangs it up next to hers in the closet while David kneels on the floor to pet an aging Labrador, dark brown with flecks of grey around the muzzle. Monica joins him, scratching behind the dog’s ears. “Hi Luna, baby, I’ve missed you.”

            “Luna?” Jared asks.

            “When I went off to college Mom got Luna to keep her company,” Monica says. “She’s friendly, you can pet her.”

            Jared reaches to pet Luna’s head and laughs as she starts licking his palm. “She’s adorable,” he says as Luna wags her tail.

            “Donald – sorry, Jared, you’ll be in Monica’s room with her. There’s an air mattress in there and Monica knows where everything is if you need more blankets or pillows or anything. You must be exhausted, I’ll let you get settled and get some sleep.” Monica’s mother says. She leads them up the stairs, Luna bringing up the rear. “David, you know where to go,” she adds.

            David laughs. “Yep, the room that’s not disgustingly girly and doesn’t have my kids’ toys scattered all over it.”

            Monica opens the door to her room. It’s almost the same as Jared remembers it – pale lilac walls, light colored furniture, and soft pale pink carpet on the floor. The boyband posters on the walls are new, and Monica cringes when she sees Jared looking around.

            “High school,” she says by way of explanation.

            There’s an air mattress on the floor already made up with clean pale blue sheets and a soft blue wool blanket. Jared sets his bag down beside it and digs through it for his toiletry kit and a change of clothes.

            “Bathroom’s down the hall on the left,” Monica says. “Just grab a towel out of the linen closet. There’s extra shampoo and soap and toothbrushes under the sink in case you’ve forgotten anything.”

            “I think I’ve got everything,” Jared says. “But thank you." He leaves the room, and Monica sinks down onto her bed and scrolls through Facebook on her phone while she waits for him to return.

\----

            Monica jolts awake in the dark and doesn’t understand why she’s awake until she hears the noise again. It’s a quiet pained whimpering, so soft she thinks she’s imagining it until she sees Jared.

            He’s curled into a tiny lump on the air mattress, shaking in his sleep. He whimpers again and Monica climbs out of bed to kneel beside him.

            “Jared,” she says softly. No response. “Jared!” Still nothing. “Donald, wake up! You’re okay, it’s just a bad dream, please wake up, Donnie, I’m right here, you’re okay.”

            That works; Jared stiffens and jerks awake, rolling over to look up at Monica and blinking sleep out of his eyes.

            “Was I – I’m sorry,” he says softly. “Was I shouting?”

            “Whimpering,” Monica says. “Are you okay?”

            Jared nods. “I’ll be fine.”

            “That’s not an answer. I’m going to go get you some water, okay? I’ll be right back.” She stands up, tiptoes downstairs to the kitchen, and returns with a glass of water.

            Jared drinks half of the glass in one gulp, then sets it down beside his mattress.

            “I’m sorry I woke you,” he says.

            “It’s okay,” Monica says. “Do you need anything?”

            Jared shakes his head. “I’m okay. Thank you. Go back to sleep.”

            Monica climbs back into bed and curls up under the blanket, and falls back asleep almost immediately.

\----

            When she wakes the next morning, Jared is already awake and fully dressed, and doesn’t seem to have lost any sleep at all. Monica sits up, blearily rubbing sleep out of her eyes.

            “You don’t need to dress up fancy,” she says, taking in his button-down shirt and pleated khakis. “That’s for dinner tonight, breakfast is casual. Lose the shirt and just wear a sweater, you’ll be fine.” She gets out of bed and unzips her suitcase, pulling out a cozy turtleneck sweater and a pair of dark blue jeans. “I’m going to go shower, you can head downstairs.”

            When she comes out of the bathroom and goes down to the kitchen, the first thing she hears is Jared’s laughter. Not a polite chuckle, but a genuine full laugh. She smiles, thinking of how long it must have been since he was that happy, and sets a goal for the holiday: make him smile and laugh as much as possible.

            Jared is sitting at the kitchen table next to Monica’s mother, his large slender hands wrapped around a mug of tea and his head thrown back, laughing along with David and their mother at a joke Monica must have missed. It doesn’t matter though – seeing him this happy is enough to bring a smile to her face as well.

            “Morning, sleepyhead,” her mother says. “There are pancakes on the stove, and you know how to work the Keurig. And after you’re done maybe you and Jared can help me and Christina start getting dinner ready?”

            “Okay,” Monica bypasses the pancakes and goes for a banana and a cup of coffee instead. “And we’re trusting David with Mikey and Bella?”

            “I can handle my children!” David says, indignantly, trying to wipe syrup off of 3-year-old Bella’s hands with a damp napkin. “Mikey NO!” he adds when he sees 4-year-old Michael reaching for his coffee. “That’s for grown-ups. If you drink it, you’ll turn into an angry coffee monster and nobody wants that!”

            “Sure, you’re doing a great job of handling them right now.” Monica quips, scooping Michael up into her arms. “Hi Mikey, how’s my favorite nephew?”

            Michael laughs and wraps his arms around Monica’s neck. She ruffles his hair before setting him back down in his chair. “You’re getting big,” she says. “Soon I won’t be able to pick you up like that anymore!”

            “Noooo!” Michael pouts.

            Monica takes a sip of her coffee. “Yeah. You can’t stay tiny forever, kiddo.”

            When she finishes her coffee, her mother shooes everyone else out of the kitchen so she and Monica can clean up and load the dishwasher before starting dinner.

            “I’m worried about Donald. Sorry, about Jared,” her mother says, pulling on a pair of rubber gloves. “He’s clearly been through some…serious trauma in his life, and I can’t help but feel that I could have prevented it if I’d let him stay with us instead of sending him off with his aunt and uncle.”

            “Mom,” Monica says, “you did what you thought was the right thing. Nobody could’ve known what would happen to him. It isn’t your fault, he has nothing but good memories of his time here.”

            Monica’s mother rinses a plate and sticks it in the dishwasher. “I just wish there was something I could do now, to help him recover from what happened to him.”

            “Just…be kind to him.” Monica says, arranging the mugs in the dishwasher. “He’s internalized all of the awfulness he went through and he believes he deserved it so just…be kind to him, show him he deserves to be treated nicely.”

            Mrs. Hall sighs. “I know you’re right, I just wish there was more I could do. He looks so sad and small and vulnerable. And he eats like a bird, he barely ate anything at breakfast.”

            Monica pulls her mother into a hug. “Hey. It’s not your fault. He knows you love him. Just keep doing what you’re doing. Give him a real family Christmas. He needs that right now.”

\----

            “Jared, can you just keep stirring that till it thickens? I need to make the pie crust.” Monica says, handing Jared a wooden spoon and moving out of his way to let him stand next to the stove. “Mom, isn’t it time to get the chicken in the oven?”

            “Oh, shoot, you’re right!” Mrs. Hall nearly drops the potato she’s peeling, carefully sets both it and the knife down on the counter, and rushes to grab the chicken out of the fridge where it’s been marinating. “Behind you,” she warns, and Jared and Monica press themselves closer to the edge of the counter as she passes by them. “Right, that’s done,” she says, closing the oven door and setting the timer. “Christina, do you need any help with the salads?”

            “No, thanks, Jane, I’m all right,” Christina answers from her spot by the sink, chopping up vegetables.

            Monica looks over Jared’s shoulder. “Okay, I think that’s good, just turn the heat down and let it sit there while I finish up the crust, and you can go help Mom with the potatoes, or go play in the snow with David and the kids.” She looks out the window at them playing in the backyard. “Actually, why don’t you go out and join them, you’ve done enough, take a break.”

            “No, I’m okay, I’ll stay and help.”

            “Jared, you’re our guest, and you’ve done more than enough to help. Take a break, I can make you some hot chocolate if you’d like,” Monica says.

            “No, that’s okay, thank you. I’ll just go upstairs and read.” Jared says.

            “Okay. I’ll come upstairs and tell you when you need to change for dinner.” Monica says.

\----

            Jared’s sitting in Monica’s fuzzy pink beanbag chair, deep in his book when Monica comes upstairs.

            “Hey,” she says softly, and he jolts a little, as if he’s forgotten where he is. “Dinner’s almost ready, you should get dressed.”

            Jared nods, picking up his button-down shirt from where he left it on the air mattress. Monica takes her dress and her makeup bag out of her suitcase and heads for the bathroom.

            When she comes back in, fully dressed and with a full face of makeup, Jared’s eyes widen a little.

            “You look lovely,” he says quietly.

            Monica smiles. “You look very handsome,” she says. “Grey and blue always look so nice with your eyes.”

            Jared blushes a little, fidgeting with the cuffs of his pale blue dress shirt. “Thank you.”

            “Now come on, let’s go downstairs, we don’t want to keep Mom waiting.”

            Monica’s mother has wisely seated her next to Jared at the table in the dining room. When Jared takes the tiniest possible portions of everything, Monica gently nudges her knee against his and softly says “Are you okay? You’re barely eating anything.”

            “This is enough,” Jared says. “I don’t need much.” Which would be believable if Monica couldn’t see the sharp bones of his wrists and knuckles and feel his knobby nee nudging against hers under the table.

            Mrs. Hall pours everyone a glass of wine. “I’d just like to make a toast,” she says. “To reuniting with family.”

            Jared blushes a little as Monica clinks her glass against his. “You’re too kind,” he says. “Thank you for letting me spend the holidays with you, it’s nice to…to not be alone, for once.”

            Mrs. Hall reaches to squeeze his hand. “You’re always welcome here, honey, anytime you’d like.”

            Jared’s blush deepens. It’s adorable, Monica thinks. Sweet and innocent and so loveable.

            As the evening goes on and everyone drinks more and more wine, Jared becomes giggly and even more blushy, the tension in his back and shoulders melting away as he settles into the conversation, into the family. He takes seconds and even thirds of everything when Monica’s mother offers it, and laughs at David’s terrible puns. It makes Monica happy to see him so comfortable and at home.

\----

            That night Jared’s whimpering wakes Monica again, and once she’s managed to shake him awake, she asks “Do you want to cuddle with me? Like when we were little, remember? We’d have sleepovers and cuddle each other to sleep. Maybe that would help you sleep better?”

            Jared fidgets with the hem of his t-shirt – startlingly, blindingly white, so it almost glows in the moonlight streaming through the window – and nods. Monica climbs into bed, lies down, and pats the mattress, encouraging Jared to lie down next to her. A few seconds later, the mattress sinks down and she finds herself staring into his wide sad blue eyes.

            She wraps her arm around his waist, pulling him a little closer, and rubs his back, feeling his ribs and vertebrae sticking out under his skin. “Shhh, shh,” she whispers, “it’s okay. You’re safe, you can relax.” She feels his body grow heavy and his breathing even out as he slides back into sleep, clinging to her tightly. “You’re going to be okay,” she whispers. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

            When they wake in the morning, Jared is still wrapped around her.

            “I’m sorry,” he says, pulling away and scrambling out of bed. “I didn’t mean…I’m sorry.”

            “It’s okay,” Monica says. “Did you sleep okay?”

            Jared nods. “Better than I have in a long time,” he admits.

            “Well then that’s all that matters. Now come on, let’s go open presents.”

            They hastily pull sweaters over their pajamas and go downstairs to the living room. Mrs. Hall hands them steaming mugs of hot chocolate – “yours has almond milk, Jared” – and Michael scrambles up onto Monica’s lap as soon as she sits down on the couch. Jared sits down next to her.

            “I can’t believe your mother still remembers my allergies,” he says.

            “She’s a doctor, Jared, and she cares about you, of course she remembers.” Monica says, squeezing his hand. Jared blushes.

            Everyone unwraps presents and gushes over sweaters and books and flasks. Jared unwraps Monica’s gift – a book of Audubon bird prints and a mug with a watercolor cartoon of a robin – and gasps.

            “It’s lovely,” he says.

            “I remember you and your mom always talking about birds,” Monica says, smiling. Jared nods.

            Monica’s mother hands Jared a neatly wrapped box. “Merry Christmas, darling,” she says as he unwraps it and opens it to reveal a photo album. He pages through it to find that it’s full of photos of him and Monica as children. On the last page is a candid of the two of them at dinner the previous night, clinking wineglasses in a toast and smiling.

            “Oh, Mrs. Hall – Jane – it’s beautiful. Thank you so much,” Jared says, in a voice choked with tears. “I – it’s been so long since I saw any photos of myself as a child, I lost the ones my mother had.”

            Mrs. Hall pulls him into a tight hug and rubs his back. “You’re welcome, sweetheart,” she says.

\----

            They spend two more days at Monica’s mother’s house, watching Christmas movies and drinking hot chocolate and playing with Michael and Bella. Every night, Monica and Jared sleep in Monica’s bed, snuggling close together. Jared sleeps through the night without any nightmares, and by the time they go home the dark circles under his eyes are gone, he’s smiling more and more often, and he has gained some much-needed weight, softening the sharp edges of his body.

Christina drives them to the airport early in the morning on the 27th for their flight home, and hugs them both before they go through security.

“It was lovely meeting you, Jared,” she says. “I hope we’ll see you again soon.”

Jared smiles. “It was nice being back,” he says. “I…I missed having a family.”

“Well, you’re always welcome here. Have a safe trip home.”

“Thank you.”

When they land in California, Monica offers to drive Jared back to his apartment. “It’s on my way,” she says, which isn’t completely a lie. “Plus hey, easier than getting a taxi. Come on.”

They talk and laugh and joke around on the drive, and Monica insists on walking Jared up to the door of his apartment.

“Well,” she says as he pulls his keys out of his bag, “um, you have my number, text me if you need anything. And think about what I said about leaving Hooli. You deserve better than Gavin.”

Jared smiles. “Okay. Text me when you get home safe.”

And then, even though she should be walking away, Monica gives in to her impulses, stands up on tiptoe, and kisses Jared.

It’s just a soft peck on the lips, but the feeling that surges through them both is like an electric shock.

“I’m sorry!” Monica says, pulling back, her face hot with shame. “I’m so sorry, oh my god, pretend that didn’t – “ And then Jared cuts her off by bending down to kiss her again, more firmly and confidently.

When they come up for air again, Jared’s face is pink, and he’s smiling. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a very long time,” he says, his voice a little raspy.

“Me too,” Monica says. “Ages.”

“So, um,” Jared says softly, “would you like to come inside?”

“Yes,” Monica says. Jared unlocks the door, and she follows him into his meticulously tidy apartment.

\----

“How much more time do we have?” Monica asks, sitting down on the couch next to Jared and snuggling close to his side to watch the New Year’s Eve countdown.

“Five minutes. Should I get the champagne out?” Jared asks, kissing her on the forehead.

“No, I’ll get it,” Monica moves to get up.

“You just sat down. Watch the countdown and eat some chocolate, and leave the champagne to me.” Jared stands up and heads for the kitchen as Monica reaches for a truffle from the box on the coffee table.

She hears the champagne cork pop in the kitchen, and Jared comes back holding two champagne flutes in one hand and the open bottle in the other.

“Just in time, we’ve got two minutes.” Monica says, accepting a glass and holding it for Jared to pour her some champagne. Jared sits down beside her holding his own glass, and they both watch the numbers tick closer and closer to zero, tuning out the news anchors’ inane chatter.

They count down with the crowd for the last ten seconds and, when the clock strikes midnight, Monica kisses Jared.

“Happy New Year, honey,” she says.

“Happy New Year.” Jared echoes, tapping his champagne glass against hers.


End file.
